Prestige Grinding : I Can Reset My Level

After forcing a contract upon him, Sora interrogated François with the same cold detachment he had shown Gérard.

"So you're telling me... the first person Rachel had your guild kill was her own husband?" Sora's voice was calm, masking his emotions as he feigned ignorance. Gérard watched from the side, as he was asked to stay silent.

"Yes," François admitted nervously, forced to tell the truth. "His name was Nathan, if I remember correctly. We kept his identity hidden from the lower-ranking members at first. We tracked him for a while, learning everything about him before ambushing him. Rachel was with him when it happened. As he protected her from

us,

she... she stabbed him in the heart from behind. She was level 20 or so back then! But after she killed him, it felt like she became stronger than us—though we couldn't be sure. We started suspecting she had some way to hide her true power..."

Sora's fists clenched at this revelation. His blood boiled with anger at the extent of how premeditated his brother's death had been, and how similar to his own death it was. 'Nathan... Rachel lead you to your death, step by step... '

François swallowed hard, sensing the change in Sora's mood. "I swear, that's how it happened," he added hastily, feeling the intensity of Sora's glare.

Sora took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing himself to remain calm. "And Nais? Your friend here mentioned her earlier. How was she involved?"

"She was just a rookie back then, not involved in the first assassination," François explained. "But she did help with the killings of Rachel's friends. Rookies like her were never part of the planning—they were used as cannon fodder until they proved themselves." His tone carried no hint of remorse, only a casual acknowledgment of the methods he'd employed.

The silence that followed was suffocating. François and Gérard began to shift uncomfortably, sensing something ominous from the way Sora stared at them. They would have preferred the questioning to continue, anything to break the tension.

"We... we could work for you—just don't hurt us, please," François begged, his voice shaking with desperation.

But before he could finish his plea, an immense pressure crushed him face-first into the ground, silencing his plea. Gérard found himself pinned down by the same force, unable to move or even breathe properly.

Sora's gaze darkened, his voice calm. "I'm no hero," he said. "But when I see trash, I take it out."

With that, Sora summoned flames in one hand and ice in the other. Half of each man was surrounded by blazing fire, while the other half were engulfed in a biting cold. He deliberately kept the intensity low, forcing them to endure the agony of both elements for a long, excruciating minute. Their screams filled the air, but Sora's expression remained indifferent.

In the end, their suffering ceased. Parts caught in the fire were reduced to ash, while parts trapped in ice became a frozen moment in time of their suffering that he reduced to fine particles.